


Cold-War

by hitthehospital



Series: Shoes [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: High School AU, M/M, teen!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 08:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8049853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hitthehospital/pseuds/hitthehospital
Summary: The aftermath of John and Sherlock's fight





	Cold-War

**Author's Note:**

> Once again grammar and spelling corrections appreciated!

The rest of the day was a blur. Lessons merged into each other. The clock moved too slow and too fast all at once. Conversations sounded like they were under water, people floated by. Every second counted down to chemistry - to Sherlock.  
The conversation from that morning looped in his mind like a broken record as he entered the chemistry class. John lingered in the doorway, hesitant. He scanned the classroom cautiously for Sherlock. His stomach flipped when he saw the other boy, black-mopped head on the table and fingers outstretched - it was almost as if John's life rewound twenty-four hours. He took a deep breath, adjusted his bag, and stepped into the room.

The boy didn't move when John sat down - he simply lay slumped on the desk with his back to his classmate.  
"Sherlock?" John asked, apprehensive of the boy's answer.  
No reply.  
John frowned - after all he'd said that day and Sherlock, the arrogant sod, wasn't even going to listen.  
"Sher-" John leant forward, lowering his voice. "Look, I know you can hear me-"  
Sherlock lifted his head slightly and turning to John before looking away quickly.  
Unbelievable.  
"For God's sake, you are ridiculous, I-"  
"-Good afternoon, class," Mr Lewis chirped as he entered the classroom, hand raised in a welcoming salute. John sat back with a huff. "Sorry I'm late, I had a run-in with the head of department to discuss how we will measure your progress throughout the year," the man explained as he shrugged off his beaten duffle bag, throwing it on his chair.  
John's fingers tapped his crossed arms in agitation at the other boy.  
"Now," Lewis continued, de-capping a white board pen, "I said to Dr Tasker that I preferred to measure your progress through your books. However, Dr Tasker said she'd prefer..."  
John's jaw clenched. He could take it anymore. He leant forward toward Sherlock again, hissing under Lewis. "Listen, just answer one question-"  
"-John Watson!" The booming voice from the front of the class shocked John to attention. "I know you are new to this school, but that does not give you the right to talk in my lesson. As for you, William," -William?- "you should already know the repercussions of talking in class. Now sit up."  
Sherlock slowly pushed himself up off the desk and sat, limp and scowling, glaring at Mr Lewis.  
William?  
Despite his anger John leant over to Sherlock. "Why did he call you William?" John whispered.  
"Because it's my name," the other boy mumbled with disgust. "William Sherlock Scott Holmes. My mother has tediously boring taste in baby names - my brothers' got all the good ones."  
John shook his head in disbelief. "You are totally ridiculous."  
Sherlock broke his stare-of-infinite-hate and looked at John quizzically.  
"Sherlock. That's the name you pick?" John asked, smile blooming on his face.  
Sherlock frowned. "Yes. What's wrong with that?"  
John laughed. "You are the most ridiculous human being I have ever met."  
Sherlock smiled at this - a small, smug smile that made John's lungs contract. The heavy air between them was palpable. "The most ridiculous?"  
John swallowed. "By far."  
"William and John, for the last time! Stop talking!" Mr Lewis yelled as he broke the spell, causing John to duck his head to hide the grin on his face. Beside him Sherlock chuckled. Mr Lewis turned back to the board just as Sherlock leant to John.  
"I have dance practise today after school if you want to come."  
"Yes," John replied, maybe a bit too eagerly.  
Sherlock's smile widened at this. "Good."  
"WILLIAM HOLMES, PICK UP YOUR BAG AND MOVE TO THE FRONT OF THE CLASS!" Lewis screamed.  
Sherlock rolled his eyes as he slipped off his stool and sulkily dragged his bag across the floor to the front of the class. He flopped dramatically onto the empty seat into the front of the class.  
Lewis' ears steamed as he glared at Sherlock, his high stress levels obvious even to John. The black-haired boy stared icily back.  
Lewis broke first, tearing his eyes from the pupil and to the rest of the class. John let out a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding, relieved the classroom-equivalent of the cold-war was quickly disarmed.  
He was making friends with the wrong sort of people.  
Sherlock turned around to John, a sly smile on his face and a question in the raise of his eyebrows. John's heart skipped a beat.  
There was no way he was going to say no to this boy.

**Author's Note:**

> These boys have no education


End file.
